


Keep Me Out of Trouble

by Duncecapdummy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duncecapdummy/pseuds/Duncecapdummy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bull couldn’t remember ever seeing her hair down before.  Normally she kept it pinned up or braided, as it made it easier to move quickly when they were traveling.  It always looked so short in the braid...  Now that he saw all of it loose, however, Bull was surprised at the length.  The drying locks cascaded down her shoulder and over her tunic, obscuring the way the wet cloth clung to her skin rather immodestly - though Bull supposed his cotton pants were probably doing something similar to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Me Out of Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> A fill from tumblr user [winnkcake](http://winnkcake.tumblr.com) for the prompt: I wish I could choose to have my female qunari inquisitor with her hair down, but I can’t! So I’m romancing the Iron Bull and I had this cute headcanon that Bull asks her (Yasazik) to take her hair down for the day! Think you could run with that?
> 
> I hope I did your inquisitor justice!

“Sometimes I really wish the undead would just stay fucking dead,” Varric grumbled as they climbed out of the lake and onto semi-dry land. The Iron Bull had never agreed more with the dwarf. He was soaked to the bone, but honestly it wasn’t that bad for him, just his pants and his boots really. The dwarf, however, was covered head to toe in at least three layers and it would probably be heavy with all the water. Dorian’s robes were most likely clinging to all those belts and ties uncomfortably. As it were, Bull just grunted his agreement as he trudged after the Inquisitor toward the path. Crestwood had not stopped raining as long as they’d been here, and the storm seemed to only get worse. After a particularly grueling battle against some Venatori, a cliff-face had crumbled beneath them and sent their party tumbling into the lake. The rock slide had disturbed the undead there, and they’d attacked before Bull or the others had even gotten out of the water. 

So there they were, soaked to the bone and dragging wet boots up the beach. Bull shoved the blade of his axe into the sand and leaned on it, looking up at the cliff in front of them. “There’s no way we’re climbing up that,” he commented.

“Then we’ll have to find a way around,” Adaar said. She was standing in front of them, her braid heavy and sticking to her skin around her neck. With her hands on her hips she huffed a breath, looking at the cliff then up and down the beach. “Come on, let’s get back to camp.” She turned north and began to march through the wet sand. 

Varric and Dorian groaned in unison behind Bull. He looked back at them and found them each hunched over, sharing aggravated looks and sneers as Dorian rung out his robe and Varric pulled off a boot, turning it over in his hand to dump out the water that had collected inside. Bull couldn’t help but chuckle as Dorian fussed over his person, trying to get himself back in rights. The fact that they survived four Vint mages, a rage demon, a tumble into the lake, and about twenty undead upon their surfacing had Bull thinking he was allowed to laugh at the others a little. Keeping his spirits up, he turned back round and followed Adaar. 

It took the rest of the day, but eventually the four arrived back to camp and huddled around the fire. The scouts had set poles deep into the ground and draped a canvas on top, creating a tent over the entire camp. It kept the rain out, if nothing else, and meant that there was a fire they could all sit around. Dorian went immediately into his tent, grumbling the entire way. “‘Come along, Dorian, it’ll be fun! Just you, me, the rogue and the Bull out on a camping trip in the ass end of Thedas.’ Truly, your ability to find trouble never fails to surprise me, Inquisitor. Where are we off to next, hmm? The blighted desert? A cave full of darkspawn perhaps? Or would you like to just give up altogether and just throw us all to the deep roads and have it be done with?”

“I’d like to thank you for accompanying me here, Dorian. I know how much you like to travel,” Adaar said, smiling to him. She was standing by the fire, hip cocked as she untied the laces of her vest. Bull couldn’t help but track her fingers as they twisted in the laces.

“Of course, dear,” Dorian said, sarcasm practically dripping from his lips. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He disappeared into the tent, the canvas flaps falling closed behind him. Adaar simply laughed, letting her head fall as she removed her outer armor. Soon her vest, gloves and sash were all draped over a crate in front of the fire to dry. She huffed a sigh as she sat on a barrel, reaching back to untie her hair. 

Bull had begun to clean his weapon, the great axe resting over his knees as he sat before the fire. As he ran a cloth over the blade he looked up to find Adaar slowly unbraiding her hair. He watched as nimble fingers slowly separated the strands, pulling each piece away from the braid and letting it fall back to her shoulder to start again. When her braid was undone, she sat quietly stretching her legs toward the fire as her fingers combed through her wet hair. Bull couldn’t remember ever seeing her hair down before. Normally she kept it pinned up or braided, as it made it easier to move quickly when they were traveling. And, he supposed, it was just simpler to pull her hair up when they were at Skyhold as well. It always looked so short in the braid, ending just at her breasts. Now that he saw all of it loose, however, Bull was surprised at the length. The drying locks cascaded down her shoulder and over her tunic, obscuring the way the wet cloth clung to her skin rather immodestly - though Bull supposed his cotton pants were probably doing something similar to him. 

When his hand stilled on the blade, Adaar’s eyes flicked up to meet his, and she smiled. Something that looked like surprise passed her features before settling into that calm and easy grin she got whenever she caught him staring. “See something you like, Bull?” She asked it in the most nonchalant voice, her tone light and friendly. But he saw the way her eyes narrowed as she held his gaze, just daring him to make a move. He smiled back to her. Might as well tell her the truth since he got caught.

“Your hair’s pretty long,” he said, stating it like it was as mundane as the color of the sky. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen it down before.”

“Well, don’t get used to it,” she huffed, already separating the drying strands into small sections again. “It’s a bitch to comb and I’d hate for it to get caught next time I’m lunging at a demon.”

He had a hard time imagining her as anything other than graceful and confident in her body. The way she moved in combat suggested that she knew exactly what she was doing at any moment. He’d never seen her so much as trip on an upturned rock, let alone getting stuck in her own hair. “I dunno, boss. I doubt you’d have an issue with it.”

“Then perhaps you should see me in the mornings, ‘cause it’s nothing but a hassle to get right,” she complained. She seemed to realize what she had suggested a moment too late when her hands stilled in her hair and her eyes darted back to Bull. It was too late, though, he was already chuckling. 

“Oh yea? And what would it take for me to get to see you in the morning, your hair a mess like that?” If she were a weaker woman, he thought she might blush. As it were, she just held his gaze and lifted her chin a little higher. He let his voice drop a little, “I bet it’d look great spread over a pillow or two, don’t you think?”

Their heated staring match continued until he was sure she’d get up and smack him. She’d done it before. There was that time in the tavern when they were all a bit too drunk, and he’d grabbed her ass. She’d hit his chest lightly as a scolding, but not five minutes later she’d dragged him to a corner to kiss him. Then there was that time when he caught her staring across the maps table in the Hinterlands. He’d bumped her shoulder affectionately and she’d shoved him off, batting at his jaw before brushing a stray hair back over her ear. But she hadn’t blushed then, and she met his eyes the next time he caught her looking. It seemed only appropriate that she would come and shove his shoulder for the comment. She didn’t though. She just kept staring at him, daring him to say something else. 

They held each other’s eyes for what seemed like forever until a scout appeared at her side, holding a few papers. “Sorry to interrupt, Ser,” he said, and Adaar pulled her eyes away from Bull. He was a little sad for the loss. “These came for you while you were gone. Seems that Sister Nightingale’s scouts have found a few Grey Wardens up at the farms.” He handed the papers over. “Thought you’d like to know.”

“Thank you,” she said, accepting them, “I’ll check the area in the morning.”

“Ser,” the scout saluted, bowing his head before returning to whatever he’d been doing before. 

Bull waited for her to look at him again, to resume their playful conversation, but it seemed the moment was over. She gave a small smile before collecting the papers together and getting to her feet. “I think I’ll go over these in my tent,” she said, collecting her other items. “Get some rest, Bull, we’re heading out at dawn.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

She smiled to him before turning toward her tent. He didn’t miss the way she flicked her loose hair over her back as she turned away from him, nor the way her eyes narrowed as she smiled at him over her shoulder before disappearing behind the flaps of her tent. Well, if these pants had been clingy before, they certainly weren’t doing him any favors now. He grinned as the tent flaps closed, and turned back to the fire, stretching out on the bench and thinking about how she would look with nothing but her hair to cover her.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm duncecapdummy on tumblr too! Come find me and chat!


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